


The Feasting

by TalesOfOnyxBats



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/M, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 12:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18850642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalesOfOnyxBats/pseuds/TalesOfOnyxBats
Summary: Commander Guan experiments with bio weapons behind Kuvira’s back. He accidentally unleashes a vicious pathogen.





	The Feasting

**Author's Note:**

> Just because I can absolutely see Kuvira as the main protag in a post apocalypse AU.

There is a fine rust gathering on much of Zaofu, a scatter of flyers and posters upon the ground. They flutter forlornly in desolate streets. She can still hear the faint hum of loudspeakers that haven’t yet lost all power. Kuvira wanders down the sidewalk with less care than usual, having reached a point where she wonders if it is worth it anymore. A harsh wind whips at her face and through barely kempt hair. Her footfalls seem to echo, reminding her of her isolation. With a worn sigh, Kuvira enters her Suyin’s estate. 

 

Baatar is at the table, peering at her through cracked and crooked glasses. Evidently, they are driving her crazy. “Give me those.” She holds her hand out. Very quietly, he obeys. She gives the metal a few careful tugs and pulls and hands them back to the man. 

 

He gives a half laugh, “forgot that you could fix them with metalbending.” 

 

She rolls her eyes, but under the circumstances she can’t blame him for letting it slip his mind. She pulls out a chair and has a seat. It is nice to get off of her feet. She drops a crate onto the table. “This should last us a while.”

 

Baatar picks his way through it. “You got cookies this time!” Suddenly he is a boy again. It is the happiest she has seen him in a while. 

 

“You mentioned that you wanted them.” She replies, wishing that she could share some of his cheer. But it is hard.

Especially so knowing that her roll in what happened hadn’t been small.

 

She was there for the start of the end, witnessed it unfold like the metal lotus petals of Zaofu. She should have been watching the man with a closer eye. His experiments were done under her regime.

And suddenly, the Great Uniter became the Great Destroyer. 

 

Kuvira wonders if the same guilt is nagging at Baatar as he munches on his cookies. He had given Guan the mechanics that he needed to engineer his vicious little monstrosity. “Here, take one.” Baatar hands her a cookie. 

 

Kuvira shakes her head. She isn’t in the mood for sugar. She isn’t in the mood for a meal it all. She isn’t sure that she is in the mood for anything. She does, however, rummage through the crate for the bandages that she managed to scavenge. She is long overdue for swapping out the one on her arm. Baatar sets the cookies aside. “Want me to get that for you?”  Kuvira holds out the roll of bandages and her injured arm. She is lucky that it is only a scratch from having been caught on a jagged pieces of fence during an escape. She is lucky twice over that it hasn’t yet developed the stink nor weep of infection. 

She hisses as Baatar applies an alcohol wipe to the gash. 

 

“Sorry.” He mumbles. 

 

“It’s fine.” 

He continues cleansing and then begins to dress the wound. “We can’t stay here forever.” She says. 

 

“This is estate is pretty stable.” He counters. 

 

“But our food supply isn’t.” Kuvira points out. “Eventually we’re going to empty the closer stores. We’ll have to wander further and further from the estate.” She pauses. “Eventually we might as well try to make into to the Fire Nation. One long trip is safer than many shorter ones.” 

 

She sees it on Baatar’s face that he doesn’t like it. The way he presses his lips together and puts an extra focus on tending to her arm. 

 

“I think that you’ve applied enough bandages.” 

 

“When do you want to head out?”

 

“As soon as possible.”

 

“Shouldn’t we come up with a plan?”

 

Kuvira is all for plans, she once had been anyhow. “Is it even possible to have a stable plan in a situation like this?” She doesn’t think so, there is too much to account for. Too many possible scenarios and outcomes for any plan to be reliable. She hates playing things by ear, but it seems as though there is no other way. 

 

“We should come up with something...” Baatar trails off.

 

“I’m listening.” 

 

“We should get a Satomobile.” He notes. “Preferably one with a lot of space and a lot of armor.”

 

“I’m certain that your family has one of those around here somewhere.” Kuvira notes. She peers out of the window. “They’re more active at night, if we’re going to do this, we should make our move now.”

 

Baatar nods.

She inspects her gun, making sure that it is fully loaded. Raava forbid she run into one of the BeiFongs. Even in half-death, Suyin seems to loath Kuvira’s presence in her home. Perhaps it is some visage of her former psyche. She watches Baatar pick up his own gun. “Carry our supply crate, I’ll do the fighting.” It isn’t a suggested attack plan, she knows that she is better with combat and he with strategy. 

 

He adjusts his glasses and lifts the crate. He nods and she approaches the door she had sealed. She takes a deep breath. She doesn’t like leaving the security of the estate, it seems so impeccable in the short term and she has only just gotten back. Even so, she pries the metal apart, only enough to give the outside world a look about. 

 

She jolts back as a bloodied hand snakes its way in. She grumbles to herself about the inconvenience of it all. About how she had been too jumpy, she hates that Baatar had gotten to witness that. His snickers cut short, giving way to an open-mouthed expression of horror. 

 

Kuvira’s retort dies on her tongue and she looks back at the door. There are five indents in the metal where the hand grips.

So they can bend now.

She just hopes that they don’t have the mental capacity to put that newfound skill to any real use. Her moment of shock passes and she slams the door on the hand. It drops with a sickly thud. Kuvira puffs her cheeks and blows out an exhausted breath as she runs a hand through her hairline. “That’s quite a development.” 

 

“Let’s hope that they don’t evolve any further.” Baatar replies. 

 

When she parts the door again she can see a missing-handed Lin glowring in the direction of the estate. She seems to be alone, but Kuvira knows better. Wherever Lin is, Suyin is usually close by. “Can I just take her out, Baatar?” 

 

“She’s still part of my family.”

 

“She’s…” Kuvira trails off, they can’t afford a petty squabble. “She’s not the person you used to know.”

 

“What if we find a cure?” Baatar asks. “If we can engineer a virus, we can engineer a cure.” 

 

But Kuvira has her doubts. They don’t have the manpower nor electrical resources to do so with the Earth Kingdom in its current state. Baatar is making this unnecessarily difficult. It is hard for her to understand why and perhaps it is because she had never grown attached to her family as he did his. 

 

“Fine.” Kuvira mutters. For the time she puts her gun aside. Instead she throws the doors open and tears a panel off, encasing Lin within it. “Let’s move out before she figures out how to metalbend herself free.” 

 

Baatar hoists the crate into his arms once more and follows Kuvira. The air outside smells of rot. A foul stench that only intensifies as the afternoon reaches its sunniest point. Spiderflies are becoming commonplace, swarming the undead. Prior to The Feasting, Kuvira had never been fond of them. They were a nuisance. Now they are a blessing; the more buzzing she hears the more distance she needs to put between she and the direction it comes from.

 

Out in the open and feeling horrifically exposed, she listens for them. Baatar gestures to the east. She agrees with his assessment, that the buzzing is loudest in that direction. She motions for him to lead the way, all the while wishing that she still had her mech-suit and her spirit canon. At the very least she wishes that she would have foraged her old military bases, not that she could have done so from her prison cell. 

She is lucky to have made it out of there at all. 

 

Kuvira doesn’t think too much about it, the what if’s haunt her enough in the dream realm. “Any sign of your mother?” 

 

Baatar shakes his head. 

 

An awful feeling arises within her. She can’t remember the last time Lin and Suyin didn’t act as a duo. It is, in fact, awfully quiet. The foreboding sort. She keeps the feeling in the forefront of her mind as she and Baatar come to the garage. 

Perhaps they are all crowding within it. 

 

But when Baatar cautiously peels it open it is vacant save for Lin’s police satomobile. It isn’t on par with any of Kuvira’s military machines, but it is sturdy enough. At least sturdy enough to last them until they can make it to one of her bases for some truly useful supplies. 

 

She keeps careful guard as Baatar loads the crate into the vehicle. “Am I driving first or are you?” Baatar askes. 

 

“I don’t mind taking the night shift.” She mutters as she climbs into the passenger's side. “Just don’t wake me up unless you run into trouble.” 

 

“Alright.” He agrees. 

 

It is hard for her to fall asleep with the sun streaming onto her face, so she watches him pull out of the BeiFong’s estate. She isn’t sure if she is terrified or thrilled that she hasn’t seen any of the former inhabitants. 

 

As it were, she doesn’t really sleep at all. She is too on edge. With an hour of driving and no sign of life or undeath, she finds herself getting chills. Baatar notices that she is still awake and cups one of his hands over hers. “Get some sleep, you need it.” He pauses. “I can handle things on my own.”  Kuvira sighs and puts her head back. She supposes that she is lucky to be in his company throughout all of this. 

 

She just hopes that this journey isn’t for nothing. That the virus hasn’t escaped to the Fire Nation.


End file.
